A Very Klaine Fairytalething
by PhantomVoldyGleek24601
Summary: Welcome to the magical kingdom of Lima, a world where chickens can cross the road without having their motives questioned. Essentially, but not restricted to: Snow White-with a twist. Klaine, fluffiness, silliness, madness and fun...:D
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Welcome to this most insane fanfic :P Not to be taken seriously :P**

**About This Fic: A little of various classic fairytales, with some "other stuff" thrown in :') It only gets crazier...**

**Hope you enjoy! :D PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter One- In which we are introduced to the scene and several characters.**_

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there resided the little-known kingdom of Lima. A comparatively small (and very silly) land where one could improvise rescue ropes simply from long, golden hair, live out an honest life as a shoemaker with one's wife, build houses from sticks and straw, play Quidditch all day and Wizard's Chess all night; a place where animals could talk, an ogre could marry a princess or one could skip through the forest singing at the top of one's voice (though it was strongly advised to avoid wolves).

A place where all one's dreams can come true, either with the aid of a fairy-godmother, or through one's own strength of heart and character (sigh). Where one could do whatever one pleased-even if that was simply getting utterly hammered every single night.

Certainly, aside from the not uncommon situation where one would wake up to find a body spread-eagled and totally shitfaced on one's front lawn, either face-down in your flower bed and completely unconscious or singing "Harold The Horny Hunter" at the top of their drink-slurred voice, Lima was a very beautiful kingdom. Small villages of thatched cottages hid prettily in forests upon forests of evergreen trees, capped with crisp, white snow and glistening in the winter sunlight. What it lacked in acres, it more than made up for in beauty and green. Waving gently in the breeze, the trees gestured lazily in the direction of the great, mighty castle.

McKinley Castle was a vast, spreading, monster of a fortress, with every defence imaginable, with many overbearing towers and turrets, where archers waited with their ever-ready and threatening crossbows should attack occur, cauldrons of boiling tar poised over the high, almost impossible to penetrate or knock down walls-painted in pretty pink. That was the view every subject of the monarchy there woke up to every morning, and lived in the shadow every day of their lives, staring up at it in awe and wonder.

Yes, Lima was a picturesque, magical-and very silly-place-but enough about that now. I shall leave you to imagine the rest of the details of the landscapes, as we progress with our story.

Tossing her shiny, luscious dark hair, literally the Queen of her castle came to the window of the highest room of the tallest tower of McKinley Castle, and looked out upon her kingdom. She breathed a contented sigh of pleasure-everything she could see, every majestic tree and every quaint little well belonged to her. Smiling, she was completely satisfied. For this was Queen Rachel the First, ruler of the land. Terribly beautiful, with large, dark eyes and a fondness for knitted sweaters, she reigned over the kingdom with an iron fist. Standing not so tall in a long, purple dress, gold crown perched on her head and sceptre in her hand, she was a sight to behold. Strong and independent, but so powerful and ruthless that everyone feared her. And when she wanted something-she would get it. Or else.

Besides all that-she had the most incredible singing voice. So wonderful, that she did not think there could possibly be one in all the land to even come _close_ to rivalling hers.

And she didn't need to worry-for she had absolute proof of this.

Sweeping from the window, she crossed the room, heels clacking on the stone floor, and came to stop at the opposite end. In front of her was a long, purple, velvet cloth curtain. Reaching out a hand, she pulled it back-and there it was. A mirror framed in pure gold, the glass filled with silver smoke: a magic mirror. This was one of her most prised possessions, along with her other enchanted mirror, the Mirror of Erised. Soon, the smoke began to clear-and the face of a handsome man, with curly hair and a charming smile appeared.

Every day, Queen Rachel would come up to this private room, unveil the mirror and confidently ask it: "Schuester, Schuester, on the wall, who is most talented of them all?"

And every day, the mirror would reply, with a boyish, crinkly smile: "No one, O Queen, comes close to you,"

The Queen _never_ tired of hearing this.

So, on this most_ fateful_ day, she asked the magic mirror, with a toss of the hair: "Schuester, Schuester, on the wall, who is most talented of them all?" She smiled expectantly at him, keenly awaiting the usual answer.

Will looked out at the Queen-and had to strain to keep the charming smile going. This was such an _effort_-and he was such a bad liar. He hated lying to people. Most of all Queen Rachel, who, despite everything she was, he'd come to care for. For all these years, he'd told her this, for fear of being smashed to dust-but could hold it in no longer. Taking a deep, smoky breath-he would tell her the truth:

"O Queen, you are a star, 'tis true-but another is just as talented as you!"

Queen Rachel's head snapped up, her eyes wide with awful shock, eyebrows knitting together. "_What_?" she exclaimed.

"Remember-seven years bad luck!" reminded Will anxiously.

"Show me!" the queen ordered. Someone as talented as her? Impossible!

Will's face faded from the glass-and was quickly replaced by a new picture. An angelic boy, with hair as dark as chocolate, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood appeared. He smiled gently, all adorable dimples and blue-green ocean-like eyes shining with hopeful innocence. Walking, elegant as a porcelain figure, he danced slightly in his steps, lips moving gently as he sang.

Queen Rachel hurried over to the mirror, and twisted the volume knob on the side. The room filled with an beautiful, angel-like voice, pure, sweet and true.

The most beautiful voice Queen Rachel hand ever heard.

Screaming in rage, she couldn't _believe_ it. "Who is this boy?" she hissed.

"A Kurt Hummel, Your Majesty," came Will's voice, muffled from the edge of the frame.

"He must be disposed of!" she cried. Ruthless-she would stop at nothing. Quickly, a plan began to form in her scheming mind…

"Puck!" she yelled. "_Puck_!"

A few moments later, a tall teen with a Mohawk and very impressive muscles entered the tower room. Noah Puckerman, the huntsman, with a quick wit and an eye for a pretty girl. He bowed respectfully-then greeted the queen with a "Sup, QILF,"

"_QILF_?"

"Queen I'd Like to Fu-"

"Okay! Okay!" Queen Rachel hollered at him. She gestured roughly to the angel boy in the glass, wanting this clean and quick. "I want you to find this _Kurt Hummel_, and take him deep into the forest-"

"Can't I just take _you_ deep into the forest, and-"

"PUCK!" she screamed. "This is _no_ joke!"

Quickly, Noah arranged his cheeky grin into a serious, business-like expression. He couldn't help making jokes-it was his nature. "Okay. What can I do you for, your Highness?"

The queen breathed out hard, trying to keep calm. "Take him deep into the forest, where no one can find you, and once there…"

Her voice rose into a blood-curdling, maniac scream, that was almost inhuman. So terrible, that the lights in the room felt the need to dim and lightening outside did crack. "I want you to stop his heart and _cut it out_!"

The final screech echoed through the castle, as the lights faded back to normal and the storm subsided.

Noah blinked. He looked carefully at the Queen's mad, even deranged face-and raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked, carefully.

"You heard me! I want you to cut out his frightened little heart. And to prove it-bring it back to me here, so he will never sing again!"

"Okay-woah," Puck held up a hand. "Isn't that a little…ghoulish?" he reasoned. He was sick of being the queen's hit man-it hadn't been in the job description. And this seemed a bit drastic to him, to murder this kid in cold blood…

The queen was not in the state for this. She spoke very quietly-but dangerously soft. "If you are not out of this room…in three seconds…I will find your Shelby, and-"

"NO!" Puck cried-

Then stopped as Rachel smiled, satisfied and smug. She knew she'd won. "You were saying?" Her voice had become unnervingly sweet.

"…nothing,"

Noah's hands were tied. Simple as that. And there was very little he'd put past the ruthless Queen...

"Good," the queen smiled. "Off you go, then,"

"A-As you wish, ma'am," Bowing low, Puck reluctantly retreated-then went away to prepare to do the Queen's deadly bidding.

The queen laughed a triumphant, maniac laugh. "Soon I shall be the _only_ star! _Mwah_ ha ha ha!"

**Dun dun dun! What will happen? Stay tuned…More soon!**

**Thank you so much for reading-reviews are always very much appreciated! :D PVG24601xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: In which Kurt meets his doom…possibly. **_

Forcefully, Puck lead the dreadfully frightened Kurt deeper and deeper into the depths of the woods. The trees were so dense, only thin beams of half-light seeped through, making the dimly illuminated patches eerie and haunted-looking, and the shadows even darker, like everything merged into one in the inky blackness. The trees were the worst though-like warped, spiky arms, spindly fingers drooping down and scratching. It was as if the whole forest was alive.

Spreading roots sprawled out on the thin, winding path, so hard to see in the dark that Kurt tripped and slipped over them, branches scratching horribly at his skin and clothes. He shivered with the cold and fear as he was dragged into the unknown. He was confused-he'd merely been carrying a basket of stiff gin through the forest for Aunt Mildred, when strong arms had grabbed him from behind, and dragged him here. Never having been to this part of the forest, he was terribly scared. What was this man doing?

Puck gritted his teeth. He didn't look back at the boy he'd kidnapped, just held him firmly by his slim wrist, pulling him behind him. A guilty lunge stirred in his stomach-but he tried to ignore it. He focused on just getting the job done.

Kurt struggled not to whimper in fear as this stranger lead him through this nightmarish labyrinth of trees. The icy wind whistled through the leaves, knifing his porcelain cheeks.

Finally, Puck reached a shadowed clearing in the very heart of the forest. He knew no one would find them there. Avoiding his eyes, he threw his victim onto the hard, cold ground, a solid, mud matter with tufts of long, wild grass, up against a tree. Turning away, Puck began to prepare his weapon. "Don't even _think _about moving," he grunted.

Frightened tears filled his blue-green eyes as Kurt was helpless on the ground, heart racing with dread as he heard the deadly, long knife being sharpened. This was it. This stranger was going to kill him. Terrified, Kurt prayed it would be over quickly.

After what seemed like forever, Puck finally stopped. He turned around, knife poised, ready to get it done as quickly as he could, without thinking too much. The whole "_bring back his heart_" thing was still a little ghoulish to him, especially for a fairytale, but he'd just have to not think about it. Kurt closed his eyes tightly, hoping it wouldn't last too long…

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Cautiously, Kurt opened his eyes. He looked up at Puck, eyes wide. As their eyes met-Puck's dagger hand began to shake. He narrowed his eyes, bit his lip-but somehow-he seemed immobile.

Slowly-he dropped the weapon to his side.

"F***," he murmured. "Ah, shit…No," He seemed confused-but resolute. "No, I can't do this, man…"

Kurt's eyes stretched even more, disbelievingly. Puck shook his head.

"No way," He slid the dagger back into his belt. "I can't kill you,"

Kurt couldn't believe it. A bubble of hope rose in his chest.

Crouching down on one knee beside Kurt, Puck looked as though he didn't like this decision much-but his hands were tied. He couldn't do it. "Okay, kid," He looked right at Kurt. "You gotta run. It doesn't matter where, just get outta here. Look, I'll be blunt. Queen Rachel wants you dead,"

Kurt gasped, scared and confused.

"She wants you dead. So if you're smart, you'll beat it right now. But tell anyone I let you go, and you won't be so lucky, okay?"

Kurt nodded, terrified. The Queen wanted him dead?

Gently, but firmly, he shoved Kurt to is feet. "Go!"

Kurt sprinted away as fast as he could into the trees.

Groaning, Puck collapsed back against the tree, pondering what to do now. No way could he have killed that kid. The innocence in his eyes…it made Puck think of his daughter, Beth…

But what to do? Puck needed a heart, or the Queen would surely carry out her threats. Puck was prepared to bet that his head would end up on a spike…not to mention Shelby…

"Urm, excuse me?" came a voice. Puck looked up. "I'm Sebastian Smyth, and I'm a little lost…"

Puck's brain whirred beneath his Mohawk. With a sinister smile, he had a _very_ good idea…

* * *

><p>Panting, Kurt staggered through the woods, exhausted from running for so long and so far. Night was falling, and the forest was even more forbidding in the twilight, with less light and more terrible shadows. The wind was stronger, as if trying to pull him off course. He was completely lost-but daren't turn back. Woodland noises surrounded him, twigs cracking under his feet, convincing him someone was following him. He longed to run home-but he knew he couldn't ever return to Lima. Queen Rachel wanted him dead-and what the Queen wanted, she was sure to get.<p>

He was still confused-_why_? Why would she send someone to horribly murder him? For what reason? He'd never even met her.

Kurt knew the kingdom, though magical, was far from free of evil folk-why, only last week those two poor children had escaped from the witch in the house of candy, where she'd tried to _eat_ them. That was pretty grim. And only last month, that gobby, crude little girl from across the road Goldilocks had been devoured by that nice family of bears at Number Eleven. Who'd have thought it? Though he'd never exactly _liked_ Goldy-she'd always been very rude, and always spat in his flowerbed-he'd never have expected things to get _that_ ugly. And especially not with Mr and Mrs Bear. Why, he'd babysat for Little Bear just a few days before Goldy was reported missing…And then there was poor Bambi's mother being shot, and his friend Briar Rose fated one day to prick her finger and die… Sometimes, Kurt wondered why people read these stories to their children.

But there was no time to ponder that now. He continued through the forest as fast as he could, pretending he was anywhere but here. Oh _God_, he needed help…

"Uh…uh, hello? *cough*…Hello there?"

Freezing, Kurt whipped around-and gasped. Staggering along, about ten feet away from him, dressed in a short, ruffled pink dress and the highest silver heels Kurt had ever seen, with a small silver tiara perched precariously on her short (dyed) blonde hair-was a fairy. A fairy, just under five feet tall, with glistening, gossamer wings like a butterfly. She looked around, not having seen him yet. Reaching down, she fumbled with the strap of a brown leather pouch at her waist until she released a bottle of vodka. Taking a grateful swig, wincing a little as it burned her throat, she sighed. "Ah, that's the stuff…oh!" Finally, she spotted Kurt, who was confused. "There you are! Don't move!"

Her wings fluttering into action, she zoomed over to him, impressive shoes scuffing the forest floor, until she dropped to a halt in front of him. Looking up at him-her pretty face broke into a huge grin. "Why Kurt! Haven't you grown into a handsome fella, huh?" Reaching up, she pinched his cheek, rather painfully. She seemed to know him…

After the shock, Kurt finally found his voice. "Urm…sorry. But who are you?"

"Oh! Sorry! Forgot," Stepping back, she held out a rather orange, manicured hand. "April Rhodes. I'm your Fairy Godmother!" she announced grandly, swaying slightly.

Kurt frowned. "I have a Fairy Godmother?"

"Why sure you do!" April was pinching his cheeks again, leaving slightly red marks behind. "Well, honey, when I picked up on the old FairyGodmotherNetwork that you were in danger-some huntsman chopping you to bits-I came right here…well. I got distracted,"

She gave a huge, drink-induced hiccough, and Kurt gathered what had distracted her.

"But I'm here now! So…" She waved her sparkly wand experimentally-and a large tree crashed to the ground about thirty feet away.

Kurt was desperate. "Can you show me the way out of here?" he asked.

There was a short pause as April thought, straightening her tiara. "Urm…well…" Pointing a pink-painted finger, she circled it experimentally. "Urm…you could go that way?"

Well. It was worth a try. "Thank you," He turned to follow her guidance, against his better judgement.

"No problem. Hey-what with Queen Rachel wanting you dead, you'll probably be seeing some more of me soon!"

Fear getting the better of him, Kurt spun on his heel. "Can't you come with me?" he asked pleadingly, looking around at the dark, terrifying forest.

"Urm…" April looked around herself. She gave a shudder. "Sorry, kid, uh, other charges! I gotta…go buy a cow off this kid Jack. I hear he's practically giving her away. Toodle pip! Don't take any wooden nickels now!"

And, in a puff of pale pink smoke, which smelt of stale drink, she was gone.

Kurt continued wearily in the north-west direction she had indicated-but it seemed hopeless. The woods seemed to go on forever, and twice he swore he heard a wolf howl. Maybe it was just the wind…but the night got darker and darker, the air colder and colder, the prospect blacker and blacker…

It was hopeless. Overcome with fear and tiredness, Kurt slowed, gasping for breath, and stopped. He collapsed down on the freezing forest floor, and fell fast asleep.

**Thank you! More soon! Please review! PVG24601xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three- In which Kurt fate is determined through democracy...**_

Kurt awoke suddenly to the sound of close-harmony singing. Shockingly-gone was the cold forest floor, the shadows of trees, the dreadful howling wind. Instead-he lay on something very soft and pleasantly warm. Behind his closed eyes-there was definitely light, natural sunlight, uninterrupted by branches and leaves. All he could hear was those sweet, harmonious voices…

He opened his eyes. He was in a room, a long, cosy room, with walls painted yellow, and flowers on each of the…Kurt counted seven little bedside tables. There were pictures of various singers framed, above each of the…Kurt counted seven beds. One bed had Maroon Five, another Brittany Spears, another Adele, another a dancer: Gene Kelly, another Kermit the Frog, another Journey, and the one he lay on had a large poster of Aretha Franklin.

Kurt was confused-how did he get here? Where was he?

Suddenly, the door opened slightly. A voice gasped-and ran away. Kurt strained his ears to hear whispering-then footsteps. Into the room came seven…ordinary people, of different shapes and sizes, wearing different types of clothes and were different skin-tones and races-one was in a wheelchair-but the thing they all had in common was the expression of interest as they gathered around Kurt's bed.

"Who is it?" one asked, as if Kurt could not hear or understand them.

"_What _is it?"

"He's so pretty!"

"Beautiful,"

"He looks better than he did when we found him last night,"

"Can we keep him? _Pleeeeease _can we?"

"Good morning," The one in the wheelchair with glasses was the first to address Kurt directly. "How are you?"

Kurt was too scared to speak.

"Bless him, he looks so frightened!" A curvy black girl smiled kindly at him.

A Hispanic girl with a slightly bitchy expression shoved the others back a little. "Give the boy some air-space,"

"_Pleeeeeeeeease _can we keep him?" a tall, skinny blonde girl with a slightly out-of-it expression pleaded.

"Hello," said an exceptionally tall guy with short, brown hair and a long face. "What's your name?" he asked, as if speaking to a younger sibling.

"I…I'm Kurt Hummel," Kurt answered him, a slight quiver in his pure, high voice.

"Don't worry, Kurt, we'll look after you," The curvy black girl patted his arm comfortingly.

"So can we keep him?"

"Shut up, Brittany,"

"Hang on," A guy with a strong Irish accent piped up. "_The_ Kurt Hummel? The one Queen Rachel is searching for?"

There was an outburst of gasps and muttering, as they looked at one another worriedly.

"Why is she looking for you?" a tall Asian boy, who couldn't seem to keep still, asked curiously.

Kurt gulped, recalling the incident in the forest with the mohawked huntsman. "I don't know…but she's already sent someone to kill me,"

There were more gasps and looks of horror.

"How did you escape?"

Kurt told them the story of his adventure last night. Their eyes grew wider.

"So he just dragged you off to kill you?"

"Yes. But he let me go" Kurt still couldn't believe his luck.

"_I_ couldn't. That'd be like stabbing Bambi," The girl still had her hand on Kurt's arm. The others nodded in agreement.

"You're not safe out there on your own," said the tallest boy. "Stay with us,"

"Uh-hello?" the Hispanic girl cut in. "There's no way. If the Queen is looking for him, and we're found to be hiding him…"

There was a pause as the others digested this opinion.

"Uh uh uh, _hell_ to the no, Santana. He wouldn't last five minutes,"

"Yeah, there must have been a reason that fairy showed us to him," the guy in the wheelchair offered. "I agree with Mercedes,"

"The blind drunk fairy…" the one called Santana muttered, rolling her eyes.

Kurt blinked-_April_?

"She was being totally inappropriate anyway-I mean, can seven people live together in a small house in an enchanted forest _without_ being dwarfs? No, according to her…" the girl spat.

"But we gotta take care of him. We can't just leave him,"

"All in favour of keeping him," said the one called Brittany, putting her own hand up right away. Five other hands followed into the air. And, after some pleading looks and puppy eyes from the blonde to the Hispanic, she eventually put hers up too, rolling her eyes.

"Are-are you sure?" Kurt asked timidly. He felt a little awkward.

"Of course you can stay," the one called Mercedes said, squeezing his arm.

Kurt smiled gratefully, overwhelmed by their kindness (sigh). "Oh, thank you! Whatever can I do in return?"

"Well, you can help out around the house-ow!" the tallest guy said as someone elbowed him.

"You don't have to," Mercedes told him.

"No! No, it would be my pleasure!" Kurt cut in, nodding enthusiastically. "The least I could do!"

And so, the arrangement began. Kurt lived with the seven Glee clubbers, safe from Queen Rachel. Every morning, the Glee clubbers went out to work, doing their various jobs, and every morning, Finn would warn Kurt never to leave the house. Then, Kurt would happily spend all day washing clothes, sweeping floors and generally tidying up. A dramatic transformation occurred in the once "organised mess" state of the house. Everyone loved Kurt-no where was there a sweeter boy, and he couldn't do enough for them. One day, he surprised them all when he produced fabulous new outfits that he'd been secretly working on, one for each of the seven, carefully tailored to their own styles-but Kurtified. They became very close very quickly, and were great friends.

In addition, true to his fairytale character, Kurt made friends with the woodland creatures through the window (_groan_). He had a way with animals, and they all loved him, all the squirrels, rabbits, birds and deer that he met. As soon as they heard him sweetly singing, they would flock and scurry to the window, listening eagerly. One particular little yellow bird with soft yellow feathers and a neat little beak loved him especially. Kurt nicknamed him Pavarotti, because of the way he sang joyfully all day long. Pavarotti would fly through the window the minute Kurt opened the curtains, and perch on his shoulder all day. They sang endless duets and laughed together as Kurt worked.

Kurt had never been happier. But despite all his new friends…he was lonely.

"Oh, Pavarotti, you're such a good friend to me! Can I tell you something?" he asked the bird one day as they dusted the bedroom. Pavarotti cheeped his answer, leaning in closer to show he was listening.

"I love my life here, with the guys, and the animals-and you, of course," Kurt gently stroked his silky feathers-then sighed. "But, sometimes…this is so silly, you'll probably laugh!" Pavarotti whistled his encouragement.

"Sometimes…well, a lot of the time…I wish…" Putting down the duster, he went over to the window and looked out, the weak sun making his hair even shinier, glistening on his snowy skin. "I wish…I wish the man of my dreams would just swoop me up in his arms and carry me away!" Leaning on the windowsill on one elbow, he sighed deeply. "I wish I had a loving, kind man to take care of me, and love me…I dream about it all the time…My knight in shining armour…"

Pavarotti cheeped, nipping his cheek affectionately. Kurt watched the trees swaying in the gentle breeze.

"It'll happen, Pavarotti," he smiled hopefully. "I know he'll come,"

* * *

><p>"Schuester, Schuester on the wall, who's most talented of them all?" Queen Rachel looked in to the gold-framed mirror, smiling smugly. She glanced at the little wooden box containing the heart that Puck had bought back, grinning to herself.<p>

The smoke-filled mirror cleared, and Schue's face appeared. Queen Rachel had not been to the mirror in a while; now the brat was dead, she _knew _she was the best singer of them all. But she still loved to hear it.

"O Queen, you are a star, 'tis true-but Kurt Hummel is _still_ as good as you,"

"_What_?" the queen shrieked, in a voice which rattled the mirror frame.

"He lives; in a little house in the forest, heart beating, singing still," "Impossible!"

"Also…someone's got a zit coming…"

Queen Rachel screamed in rage. That explained Puck's rapid departure from her service. She tossed her beautiful hair angrily. "The brat must die!" she snarled. "I MUST be the star! I MUST!"

Sitting heavily down on her chair, and taking a handful of chocolates from the bowl at her side, her evil mind began to whirr…

**Thank you so much! :D Hope you liked! :D **

**Just to clarify: **

**Mercedes**

**Artie**

**Brittany**

**Santana**

**Mike**

**Rory**

**Finn**

**are the seven people who live together **_**without**_** being dwarfs…:P**

**Now match them to their posters! :P **

**:D Thank you! I'm very grateful for any reviews! Always appreciated :D PVG24601xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! :D **

**This chapter contains a lot of Harry Potter references, so if you're not a fan, please just bear with :P **

**I own nothing :D None of the songs in this chapter, not HP, and not anything else :P**

**This chapter's a bit mad…the next one will be better :P**

**Hope you enjoy! PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter Four- In which Kurt encounters a threat, and a truth is revealed…**_

The new day dawned bright and sunny, a breeze gently rustling the leaves outside. Birds sang, as did the drinkers outside the Poisoned Apple public house about a mile away. The Glee clubbers prepared busily inside the little woodland house for the day's work. Kurt had spent the morning gently explaining the concept of "breakfast" to Brittany, alas in vain. Kurt laughed fondly at her confused, bemused expression. "Never mind!"

"Now, you don't go leaving the house, Kurt," Finn presented his usual warning.

"I know, I know," Kurt smiled, fetching his bag for him. "Have a good day!"

He waved them off as they left, then, singing to himself, he began to clear up breakfast. Honestly, he did not know how Finn ate that much…His beautiful, true voice floated sweetly out of the window:

"_I don't know when_

_And I don't know how_

_But I know something's starting right now…_

_Watch and you'll see-_

_Someday I'll be part of your world_!"

Nothing in the world gave Kurt a greater joy than singing.

As usual, Pavarotti flitted through the window in a small flurry of yellow feathers and settled happily on Kurt's shoulder, tweeting a happy greeting.

"Good morning!" Kurt sang back to him. The bird whistled a harmony to Kurt's tune as he put plates away and washed up glasses.

"_A dream is a wish your heart makes_…"

The sun shone off Kurt's hair, illuminating his pale, perfect skin until he looked more beautiful than ever. "_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…" _he sang, folding the dishcloth neatly. Pavarotti took the other end in his small pointed beak to help him, making sure the corners met exactly. Together, they cleaned up the kitchen, so each surface shone. When it was done, Kurt put his head carefully to one side to examine-and beamed. It looked fabulous.

"_Some day my prince will come_…He will, Pavarotti," he told the bird dreamily. "Hmm…he'll have dark, curly hair, and big golden eyes, like pools of sweetest honey…" Kurt giggled as he imagined him. "He'll wear a bow tie- you know, I always liked bow ties…and he'll be a musician! Yes, he'll sing, and play music, and compose songs…" He smiled…then sighed. "But I guess, as long as he loves me…none of that really matters…"

Pavarotti cheeped in agreement.

"However-if he had those golden eyes, I think I'd just…" Kurt did an impression of dramatic swooning, and he and his feathered friend laughed.

Suddenly-there was a knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" Kurt wondered aloud. No one had ever knocked before during the day. In the sheer surprise of it, Kurt went out into the hall-and opened the front door.

Standing on the doorstep in front of him-was a _wolf_. It must have been six feet tall, shaggy grey fur matted as it stood on it's hind legs. It's huge, yellow teeth were bared, horrible red eyes fixed menacingly on Kurt, as it threw back it's nightmarish head and…

"My, my, Porcelain, what big eyes you have," came a drawling voice.

All of a sudden, the wolf reached up it's claws, and-took off it's head?

It was a costume! As the mask was removed-a new head was revealed. A much, much more terrifying sight. As the Velcro was undone with a rip, the top of the neck of a green tracksuit top could be seen beneath. The pale, wrinkled neck, the skinny, lined face with cold, hard eyes, the sarcastic smile, the distinct smell of sweat and blood…Sue Sylvester, the most feared woman in the land. It was said that every time she smiled…a puppy cries. Legend has it that one time she kissed a Dementor-and it _died_.

Gasping, Kurt sprang backward. Pavarotti flew as quickly as he could upstairs, terrified.

"Well, Fairy Queen, how nice to see you," drawled Sue, stepping into the house like she owned the place and looking around. She sniffed. "Very clean. Who lives here, duplicates of Emma Pillsberry?"

"W-what are you doing here?" Kurt stammered, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"Well, Ladytrousers, I was just on my way to the woodland library to read _Poacher's Own _to blind squirrels, when I heard the sweet, sweet sound of a countertenor. Just to make it clear, in case you are as dumb as you are pale, that is you. Oh-another newsflash for you: there's a $100,000 price on your head, for your delivery-dead or alive-to the Queen. And, sister, that buys a hell of a lot of protein shakes and cheerleading uniforms. Nothing personal, Princess, just business. So-in conclusion-I'm here to annihilate you," she explained, as if the whole thing bored her. Kurt backed up against the wall as Sue advanced on him, heart racing. He panicked, mind whirring. He had to ask.

"Urm…why are you d-dressed as a wolf?"

Sue paused for a moment. "Yes, why _am_ I dressed as a wolf?" she snapped, genuinely confused. Then, she rolled her eyes, muttering about the silly, tired and incompetent author, who simply likes the idea that she might do that. "But to be honest, I think I rock this look. Anyway, don't distract me, Porcelain," Delving into her costume, she pulled out a long, black wand. Almost carelessly, she flicked it at Kurt, and muttered:

"_Crucio_,"

Crying out, Kurt sank to the floor, suddenly in the most excruciating agony imaginable. There was no way to describe it. It was being thrown into flames, submerged in acid, shot with twenty cannon, stabbed with blunt knives…He writhed in agony, whimpering. Down to his bones and right through him, the worst torture in the world ripped through, leaving no cell or nerve untouched. In his mind he saw-terrible things.

"Hurts, doesn't it, Ladyface?"

Kurt shook with pain and fear, his whole body quaking so hard, he thought it must shatter. In his mind- he saw his mother die again, right before his eyes…he gave a strangled cry.

"Want it to stop, Porcelain?" Sue stared mercilessly at him, as if he was simply a nuisance. "As much as I love watching you suffer, I have to get back to Queen Rachel and collect my reward. God, I love her brutality…who'd have thought she'd turn out like this, huh? Anyhow…Goodbye, Porcelain," She poised her wand. "_Avada_-"

"Hey, Kurt, I just forgot-oh my God!"

Somebody sprinted towards them. In a moment of adrenaline-induced strength, the someone leapt on Sue and wrestled her to the floor. He snapped her wand in half, and finally, the horrific agony lifted. Kurt was left terribly weak-but lifted his head enough to see his rescuer-Finn. The countertenor breathed a small sigh of relief and gratitude.

"Get outta here!" yelled Finn.

"Or what, Frankenteen?" Sue's voice was muffled beneath him.

Finn's eyes flashed. "If you don't leave…I swear, I will tell the world of your secret love for…_Will Schuester_,"

Suddenly-Sue gasped. Blushing, she fell totally out of character, caught off-guard, amazed-and scared. "What?-How?-You wouldn't…"

"It's obvious, really, I think…but wouldn't I?" Finn hissed dangerously. "Now shove off, before I put it on Twitter,"

Sue got up, dusting herself off as quickly as she could, trying to retain her evilness. "I'll get you next time, my pretty! And your little bird, too!" Cackling, she Disapperated.

Kurt breathed a massive sigh of relief, getting shakily to his feet, still not over his ordeal. "Thank you so much, Finn!" he gasped out.

"Kurt, you know you're not safe anywhere!" Finn was almost scolding him. "Do not open the door-not for anyone!"

"I'm sorry…" Kurt whispered, looking down. Finn's expression softened.

"Look, don't apologise, just don't do it again. This is the second time in a month she's tried to kill you, and that time, it was damn close…"

"She-she's not going to stop, is she?"

Finn gave him a long look. "Just keep yourself safe, okay?"

Reluctantly, Finn had to leave. Kurt locked and bolted the door behind him, still shaking.

Pavarotti flitted back, cheeping urgently.

"It's okay, she's gone," Gently, Kurt stroked the bird's soft, yellow feathers. Pavarotti nipped his ear apologetically.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine. All over now,"

Firmly, Kurt pushed all thought of his encounter out of his mind, and tried to go on. He smiled as brightly as he could. "Come on, let's go and finish that shirt for Sam!"

**Hope you enjoyed! :D Review, if you like? :D PVG24601xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you billions to Masks and Teapots and especially to ExotikaHollow1379 for saving my life! :D Thank you! You're incredible!**

**Right, the story will be smooth from now on…**

**Please review! I can't tell you how much they mean! And they make my typing faster :P Thank you**

**SPOILER: There's a handsome prince on the horizon…**

**Hope you enjoy! PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter Five-In which Kurt's life is threatened by beauty products…**_

As the mirror yet again informed Queen Rachel that Kurt was still alive and well, she almost smashed it. "_How_? How does he keep escaping?" she seethed, face red with anger. "That brat must die! He must! There _must_ be a way!"

"No offence, O Queen, but you're really not very good at this whole murder thing…"

Giving a hiss of rage, the Queen stormed over to her window and looked out on her kingdom, foot tapping impatiently. "What would Barbra Streisand do?" she wondered aloud.

She had to try again. And now-now, it was personal.

Magic…

Queen Rachel smiled an evil smile…

* * *

><p>Not a week later, Kurt happily mopped the floors, singing especially well today, dancing like a nymph as he did. Pavarotti sang sweetly on his shoulder. It was raining hard-but Kurt didn't mind. Rain made the flowers grow.<p>

"_Who is that girl I see?_

_Staring straight back at me?_

_Why is my reflection someone I don't know?_

_Somehow I cannot hide_

_Who I am, though I've tried_

_When will my reflection show who I am inside?"_

Putting the mop into the wooden pail of water, he leaned thoughtfully on the handle, gazing dreamily into the distance.

"_When will my reflection show who I am inside?…"_ the countertenor finished breathily, letting out a small sigh. "Do you think he'll come today, Pavarotti?" He didn't need to explain who he was talking about. Nowadays, he talked of little else.

Pavarotti tweeted back.

"No, you're right, I have to be patient. But I know he'll come. One day," Kurt twirled the mop around, blissfully imagining his knight in shining armour holding him close in his strong arms…

Miles away, in the highest room of the tallest tower, Queen Rachel raised her arms, and closed her eyes. She focused her mind, emptying it of all else, and visualising the target. The boy had such perfect skin, enviably so…now. Squeezing her eyes even tighter, she concentrated. Making big, windmill movements with her purple-robed arms, she muttered a strange enchantment, tongue twisting eerily over the unearthly words…

"Oh!" Kurt squeaked in surprise as he looked at the clock. "Oh my goodness, it's three o'clock already! My goodness, time flies when you're having fun, hey, Pavarotti?"

The bird cheeped back enthusiastically, nodding his small yellow head.

"Time for my afternoon skin routine," Kurt sang, making his way upstairs to the bathroom, his tweeting companion fluttering devotedly behind him. Even with a mad, insane, psychotic monarch after him, there was no reason to let himself go. Moisturising was of the utmost importance. Humming, he found his favourite pumpkin-shaped glass bottle of _Cinderella's Fabulous Glowing Enchanted Moisturiser, _hidden behind Sam's blonde hair dye (Kurt knew it)_. _Placing it beside the sink, Kurt turned away and began to scrape his fringe back, using a headband.

With an almighty shout of dark magical words, Queen Rachel clapped her hands above her head-and sparks flew from the impact, shooting high into the sky and exploding in a shower of scarlet glittering lights…

Beside the sink-the thick, pink cream in the bottle, balanced precariously by the taps…turned the same blood red…

"_And in years to come we'll reminisce _

_How we came to love_

_And grew and grew love_

_Since first we knew love through true love's kiss!"_

As Kurt sang, back turned-Pavarotti gave a great tweet of shock and fear as he noticed the change. He _knew_ what had happened: _poison_! Someone was trying to poison his sweet human! He recognised it-this was the deadliest poison in the land. Just a mere touch was enough to kill you! Anxiously, he fluttered his wings, wondering what to do. Humans didn't understand normal talking-and he couldn't make sense of their strange noises either. As he panicked, he found himself wishing that humans had a proper voice…oh God, the colour was fading! The baby pink was returning! The moisturiser looked normal! It was too late…

But he had to save his gentle human. _Somehow_!

As Kurt turned back around-he frowned. For some reason, Pavarotti was doing a sort of strange dance, hopping about, wings spread, tweeting urgently, like he was trying to say something.

"Hey, what's wrong, honey?" He was a little amused at the bird's weird antics. Pavarotti gestured sharply with his head to the moisturiser, almost screaming. "_No! No no no!_" he squealed at the top of his lungs in his own cheeping bird language. "_No, Kurt, thou must shun this cursed concoction! 'Tis a trap! A trap! The work of witches! Take heed, gentle sir, heed my warning! Let not thyself near, I beg!"_

"What's with all this tweeting?" Kurt asked him, concerned, taking a step toward him.

"_No! Away, away! Come you not near, compassionate child! For 'tis certain death awaits thou!"_

After a moment-Kurt laughed fondly. "Crazy bird…" Shaking his head, he reached for the bottle…

Pavarotti gave a last, mighty screech-and knew what he had to do. Zooming as fast as he possibly could towards the terrible pink cream, he landed on the rim of the glass. Using his sharp beak, he ripped out a few of his feathers. Ignoring the pain, hastily, and in the nick of time, he dropped them into the liquid.

Upon touching the moisturiser-the fluffy yellow feathers hissed, smoked-then disintegrated. Right before their eyes.

All that was left was a few specks of black ash.

Kurt gave a huge gasp. "Oh my goodness! What…? What happened?"

Pavarotti breathed a sigh of relief, wiping his forehead with his wing.

Kurt was frightened, studying the bottle with confusion. "It's not supposed to do that…Oh my goodness! Queen Rachel!" The boy's eyes were wide with fear. "You saved my life, Pavarotti!"

Gratefully, he kissed the little bird on it's beak. "Thank you!"

"_A pleasure, noble cuz," _he tweeted. _"But one hopes he does never have the cause to do it again," _

"Wait!" Kurt gasped again. "Was this…_poisoned_?"

Pavarotti sighed again. He'd have to draw him a freaking picture…

"Poison?" came a voice from the hall. The seven Glee clubbers had returned from work. They came running into the bathroom, each with a worried expression, even Santana.

"What happened?" asked Finn urgently.

Kurt told them the whole story. By the end of it-it was hard to tell who looked more scared, them-or Kurt himself. In the sheer mess and terror of it all, he broke down in tears.

"Thank Beyonce you're safe," said Mercedes, hugging him hard.

"Thank Kermit Pavarotti was here," Rory sounded shaken.

"You're truly not safe anywhere…" Finn mused. Kurt looked terrified, tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Queen Rachel in the bathroom with moisturising cream…" Artie muttered. Everyone shuddered, as if it had gotten cold.

"We'll put protective enchantments around the house," Mike got up. "Come on, Santana," He and the Hispanic left, going to find their wands. Santana patted the countertenor comfortingly on the arm on her way out.

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," Kurt felt awful.

"Hey-that's what friends are for, right? We love you, Kurt," Mercedes told him, giving him a kiss on his hair. He hugged Mercedes back, trying to put a lot of unsaid things into it. She seemed to understand. "Everything's going to be okay," she told him.

But, unknown to Kurt-she shot Finn a worried glace over his head. Her face read plainly.

But Finn was not going to give in. "Nothing's gonna harm you," he promised, firmly. "Not while I'm around,"

* * *

><p>Rachel slumped at her desk, banging her head on the table top. "<em>Why-doesn't-he-stay-dead<em>!" she raged, crashing her head with each word. "I wipe out the whole of Vocal Adrenaline in an afternoon-but _one _boy! One lousy little soprano! _Why-won't-he-play-nice_?"

Schue watched warily from the wall. He wondered if he should just go back to lying…

"If a job's worth doing, I should do it myself!" the mad Queen declared. "In _person_! And make damn sure the little brat doesn't escape!" Standing up, she strode over to her cauldron, stirring it furiously.

Then-she saw it.

Left stood alone on a little wooden table. Perfect and shiny. Looking absolutely delicious.

A pure, red apple…

That wicked smile played around her lips. Voice far quieter-dangerously so-so deadly that a spider on the ceiling scuttled away, frightened-she began to speak. Velvety smooth, she took up the apple, twisting it in her hands. She positively _beamed_ with glee...

"I will go _myself _to this house…and make sure _Kurt Hummel_ never sings another note!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone! Sorry this is short-but the next chapter is much longer! :D**

**Please review! It means the world! :D **

**Hope you enjoy-PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter Six- In which Kurt does something very, very silly…**_

Kurt hummed low as he watered the plants on the windowsill inside. He longed to go out and tend the proper garden-but he couldn't take that risk. He was still pretty shaken up from the experience in the bathroom…Anyway, the weather was foul outside today. The clouds were mixtures of dull greys, completely obscuring the usual deep blue, and it was clearing threatening to rain. Occasionally, the beginnings of a thunder clap broke across the sky. There was a storm brewing. Pavarotti tweeted uncertainly beside him. He was so worried about Kurt he couldn't stay still, hopping up and down like a rabbit.

"Why does she want me dead so bad, Pavarotti?" he asked, talking more to himself than the bird. Carefully, he sprinkled just the right amount of water on the plants. "I've never even met her!"

Pavarotti chirped comfortingly. He didn't know either.

Another roll of thunder swept through the sky. Kurt tutted. "Oh dear. I hope all the animals in the forest are okay…"

Pavarotti tweeted again, hopping onto Kurt's shoulder and nipping his cheek affectionately. Kurt gently stroked his feathers, then got back to work watering. They'd be beautiful flowers once they perked up a bit-they had definitely been neglected. But Kurt would revive them. It wouldn't take long, just a few-

"Hello there, dearie,"

Startled, Kurt looked up, eyes wide. Standing at the window was a little, bent over old woman, in a heavy black cloak. Her eyes were sunken, face weather-beaten and wrinkled, and her hands were pale and dotted. Slung over her crooked arm was a basket of pale green and bright red apples. She smiled up at him with very yellow, uneven teeth.

Instinctively, Kurt backed away from the window, dropping the watering can in surprise. He'd become, understandably, very paranoid. The slightest noise made him jump a mile nowadays, the drip of a tap, anything. But this old crone couldn't be any harm, surely…She smiled friendly enough.

"Don't look so scared! Dear me, child, I'm not going to hurt you!" She chuckled throatily. "My my-aren't you the pretty one?" Reaching up, she gently took Kurt's face in her rough, withered hands. "Hair as dark as chocolate, skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood…Such beauty, such eyes, such rosy cheeks! Rosy like apples!"

Kurt smiled modestly, eyes cast down. "Thank you, ma'am,"

The old crone looked more carefully at him. "But your mind is not at ease-tell me, my child, what's wrong?" Her old eyes showed motherly concern. Something Kurt hadn't been shown for a long, long time.

"Oh…it's a long story," He smiled weakly.

"Well, I won't force you, my child, but a problem shared is a problem halved!"

Kurt had never understood that phrase. If a problem shared was a problem halved, then surely all you had to do was go around telling your problem to lots and lots of people, and each time the problem would be reduced until it was of no real significance. But that of course was not the cast. However, he appreciated her seemingly genuine interest. On the other hand-he did not want to relive his misadventures and near-death experiences just yet. And he didn't want to waste the woman's time, especially not with the storm fast approaching. The old woman sniffed the air, obviously thinking the same thing.

"Miserable day, is it not?"

"It is," Kurt agreed. "But rain makes the flowers grow!" He tried to sound optimistic and sunny-but came out a little desperate. The old woman seemed to understand though. Kurt saw a drop of rain fall onto her forehead, running down her long nose. He wondered whether he should invite her inside, out of the storm, but he remembered his promise to Finn…

"Well, don't let your worries plague you too much, my pet-you'll end up old and haggard like me!" she cackled.

Kurt's eyes grew wide with terror, and he had to stop himself exclaiming "_Oh God, no_!". He vowed to moisturise doubly well from now on.

"But life always seems better with one of my delicious apples!" The old woman gestured to the basket of shining fruit.

"Thanks, but I haven't any money," he said apologetically. He'd have bought one out of pity-maybe the woman could have got herself a nicer cloak…

"Oh no, dearie, they're free for you! Go on, please a helpless old woman,"

Kurt shook his head. "No, thank you, I couldn't,"

"Come on," She smiled again, showing her teeth, like crooked tombstones, eyes lighting up like torches. "They're _wishing_ apples, you know?"

"Wishing?" Kurt looked up, frowned curiously, heart beating faster.

"One bite, and anything your heart desires…will be yours! And what does _yours_ desire, my dear?"

_My prince_…

"Oh dear, I can read your face like a book, child!" she laughed. "_I_ know what you want-what you dream of…It can be yours…" She wafted the smell of apples in his direction. "_He_ can be yours…"

Kurt knew he shouldn't.

Most of him screamed no. But…

Oh, why not? What harm could it do? He wasn't sure about "wishing apples", but why not make this harmless old woman happy? "Oh, go on then. Because you're so kind,"

The old crone beamed, as if nothing could make her happier. She plucked an apple from the basket, a big, bright red apple, with not a scratch or a dent on it's shiny scarlet flesh.

"Almost as red as your lips!" The old woman gave another throaty laugh. "Come on, my child-make a wish!"

Why not? Kurt held the apple tightly in his hands, close to his heart. He closed his eyes, and wished. Where ever he was…_who_ever he was…

"Take a bite, dearie!" The crone watched, excitement in her voice.

Slightly reluctantly, Kurt raised the apple to his lips. It smelled delicious, sweet and crisp at the same time, wonderfully smooth in his hand…

No sooner had the apple touched his soft lips-he fell to the floor, motionless.

"_Mwah ha ha ha ha ha_!" Throwing the cloak and basket aside-Queen Rachel was revealed, transformed back to terribly beautiful, evil self! Tossing her long hair, which seemed to crackle with electricity as the storm broke, lightening striking outside and thunder positively roaring, rain beating down harder than it ever had before, she shouted in triumph.

"_I am the greatest star_! And no one-_no one_-will _ever_ stand in my way! NEVER!"

Her maniac screams were louder than the storm, wilder than the wind, as she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Left lying on the floor, motionless, was Kurt. Perfectly still, perfectly sweet and innocent, perfectly beautiful-but lifeless.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! :D **

**Sorry for another short chapter, but it will flow better this way! The next one will be longer :D**

**SPOILER: Klainebows…and more trouble is brewing…**

**I hope you enjoy! :D Reviews are always very much appreciated! :D PVG24601xxx**

"Whoohooo!"

The loud, joyous whoop rang through the rolling, green hills of the not-so-far-away kingdom of Bowtiesarecool, startling a few sheep, but otherwise to the pleasure of anyone who heard it. It echoed through the valleys and all around the mountains, a sound of pure delight. The source of the sound cheered again, then set his gleaming white horse galloping over the fields, jumping over hedges and streams, long snowy mane flying out behind the stallion, named Luke Skywalker, who whinnied in happiness. The rider's face was whipped by the wind, blowing past him at seemingly impossible speeds, but he was having too much fun to notice. This was what he loved-being wild and free as the birds that circled above his head.

"Good morning, Your Majesty!" An old farmer tending sheep in a field called, waving his hat as the horse and his rider charged by.

"Hey!" The rider waved back, keeping a grip on the reins with his other hand as they rode on, slowing down to a canter as they reached the twisting lane that lead up to Dapper Castle, the prince's residence.

The dashingly handsome and incredibly dapper Prince Blaine Romeo Edward Michael Ferdinand Anderson, to give his full name, was a sight to behold. He was, though unaware of it, absolutely beautiful. With his curly, almost black hair, his tanned, slightly exotic skin, his toned muscles and the most amazing smile in the world-not to mention those beautiful, incredible golden honey-coloured eyes-he was just wonderful, especially when he laughed or sang. And don't get me started on that ass. However-he did not see this at all. He was generally bemused by compliments, however gushing, and just saw himself as a normal sort of guy, no one special. Being heir to the throne of Bowtiesarecool was just something quite nice, and he liked being able to ride through fields without getting yelled at by farmers-but he was always surprised when people told him he was talented, or handsome, or even supermegafoxyawesomehot. Prince Blaine just liked to have fun.

And wear bow ties.

Riding on, he finally reached the castle stables, where Wes, the stable hand, was carefully grooming a brown shire. He waved to the Prince as he slowed to a trot in the yard.

"Good morning, Your Majesty!"

"Wes, we're friends! You can call me Blaine,"

"I know, but if your father heard, I'd be dead," Wes grinned as the Prince dismounted, leading the horse over to the water trough, where he gratefully got stuck in, drinking deeply as Blaine patted his shiny coat.

"Come on, let's get this horse untacked," Wes strolled over-then took off Prince Blaine's riding hat, snickering.

"Oy!" The prince shoved him into the fence, and the two were soon engaged in a pretty fierce pushing match, laughing like hyenas.

"You know, sir, I'm glad you wear a riding hat," Wes commented when they finally stopped and began to untack Luke Skywalker, carefully negotiating straps and buckles. "Most people who ride horses in fairytales don't, which is frankly dangerous,"

"Well, after I heard what happened to Prince Philip…" Blaine shuddered as he gently removed the bit in the horse's mouth. "Poor Aurora, she hasn't been able to get out of bed since…But it does make a change from wearing this thing," Taking out his phoenix feather wand, he pointed it at the castle behind them: "_Accio crown_!"

A moment later, the golden crown came cruising toward them, and Blaine caught it neatly, settling it in his curls. "God, this is annoying…You know, in real life, the royals don't actually go about in crowns the entire time? Imagine!" He straightened his bow-tie thoughtfully.

"So how's everything?" Wes asked conversationally.

"Oh, you know…My father's still on at me to marry Cinderella…but-"

"You'd rather have Prince Charming," Wes grinned, nodding understandingly.

"Oh no, he's a douchebag," Prince Blaine snickered, brushing it off-but Wes was essentially right. If only his father could understand…

"Any gossip for me?"

"_Well_-"

The Prince knew immediately that Wes had been waiting to be asked this question. He looked excited-and there was a smirk on his face.

"They _say_…that something _very_ unusual is happening in the Enchanted and Very Silly Forest just outside the kingdom of Lima…" Wes winked at him.

The prince was mildly interested, stroking Luke Skywalker's soft, white coat. "Like what?"

"_Well_…they say that the greatest beauty in the land lies in the heart of the woods, in a glass coffin, surrounded by flowers and seven-"

"Dwarfs?"

"No, just normal people, who won't leave. They mourn day and night, so it's said. They've been there a whole two weeks,"

Blaine looked up, frowning. "Why would you leave a corpse in an glass coffin in the middle of a forest for two whole weeks? Surely that's not right…"

"I don't know," Wes shrugged. "But it's said that they can't bear to bury such a beautiful, sweet person…"

"Surely the body's beginning to decompose?"

"The thing is-no! Still as perfect as the day that life left it. Cheeks are still rosy, lips as red as blood. You'd think he was just sleeping-"

"Wait."

Prince Blaine held up a hand to stop Wes talking.

"_He_?"

Wes snickered smugly. "_He_ indeed. _Now _you're interested," His grin widened, as he laughed.

But the Prince's heart had began to race…

"_He_ is said to be so beautiful that Princess Belle packed up and went home. And his singing is supposed to make Princess Arial sound like Jedward…"

"Uh?" That was all Blaine could manage. His head was swimming…

"His hair is like chocolate, skin white as snow, lips red as blood…breathtaking, so I've been told,"

There was a short pause. Then-

"I have to check this out,"

"Check _him_ out, you mean," Wes shoved him playfully. The prince swatted him back half-heartedly. He was intrigued. Captured. Fascinated by this mysterious beauty….

"Will you help me tack up again?" Even his voice sounded different…

"That's what I'm paid for,"

About ten minutes later, Blaine had mounted the proud white stallion again, preparing to travel for the Enchanted and Very Silly Forest. "Not sure how long I'll be. If my father asks, tell him I'm meeting Princess Jasmine or something,"

"Of course," Wes grinned, looking smug.

"Thanks man," Blaine encouraged Luke Skywalker straight into a gallop, and in no time, he was out of the yard in a cloud of dust.

"Good luck, Your Majesty!" Wes yelled after him, as he disappeared into the horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone :D**

**Hope you enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated :')**

**This chapter is sooooooo cheesy! :P**

**Thank you! Hope everyone is well :D PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter Eight: Forever and ever and ever and ever and…**_

In a clearing in the forest, where the sun shone through the gaps in the dense leaves of the close packed trees, not a creature moved, and not a sound was made. It was as silent as a grave, except the breeze rustling, a whisper in the hushed glade. The grass was long and still brushed with morning dew, dotted with daisies and buttercups. The foliage around them seemed to almost sparkle where the sun hit it, and between the trees circling the clearing, bluebells grew, heads cast downwards as if they were weeping.

In the middle of the clearing, surrounded by positively hundreds of every flower you could think of, spilling out onto the grass, piled high at the sides, and inside of it-was a glass coffin. The beams of lights shone directly onto it, making the glass shine even more, brightening the colours of the flowers. They were every colour imaginable, every species, every size, that had been collected there over the past two weeks. It was a beautiful sight to see-if it wasn't so sad.

There were lilies in the mix. Death flowers.

The seven grieving Glee clubbers held their silent vigil, along with all the birds, squirrels, rabbits, deer and every other kind of woodland creature. They couldn't bear to leave, even though they had been there for weeks. Little Pavarotti still could not stop crying. He perched on a branch, just overlooking the coffin, a perfect red rose in his beak, which he dropped into the mix of flora, his daily offering to his dear, sweet boy.

Silence reigned. There had never been such a tragic, terrible time.

Inside the coffin, Kurt lay. His hair was perfect, his lips red as blood, his snow-white skin flawless, cheeks as rosy as the day he'd died. The Glee clubbers could not bear to bury him. So he lay in the glade, surrounded by flowers, sleeping peacefully, his face so full of innocence. The Glee clubbers and the woodland creatures mourned him miserably, devastated, laying more and more flowers and shedding more tears.

* * *

><p>Prince Blaine galloped through the forest, Luke Skywalker's hooves barely touching the forest floor in his haste. He didn't really know where he was going, but was just hoping for the best. His trusty stallion sped through the trees, and the Prince searched and searched, high and low amongst the trees. It hadn't been an easy journey-the Prince had been attacked by Doxys a few miles back, and there had been some issues with a rather antisocial ogre when he'd accidentally found himself in the middle of his swamp. The poor guy seemed miserable and lonely, but Prince Blaine had dashed off at top speed when he started throwing tree trunks and boulders at him. However-he'd got his revenge. He'd sent an annoying, talking donkey that way to cheer him up…<p>

In time-the Prince pulled Luke Skywalker to a halt. There was something, something going on just through the trees. He could see humans and animals gathered together…could this be it? His heart had began to beat at top speed, so loud, he was sure it was audible for miles around.

Dismounting, he slowly lead the stallion forth. The hooves crunched quietly on the blanket of leaves on the ground. And soon, his eyes met the scene. It moved him greatly. The woodland creatures and Glee clubber's heads were bowed, gathered solemnly around the masses of fragrant flowers-and in the middle of it all was-a glass coffin.

Prince Blaine was barely breathing. Leaving the horse-he began to slowly approach. Heads turned, of course, to look at him half-heartedly-but he hardly noticed. Every sense in his body seemed to have ceased to work. It was as if everything had gone into slow-motion. The world had stopped spinning on it's axis. And as he looked upon Kurt's coffin…

It was as if the Prince had finally woken, and seen what it was to be alive. He looked down at the young man lying comatose in the coffin, hair as dark as chocolate, skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood, even more amazing than the Prince had imagined him. He almost couldn't believe it-how could anyone be this…this…_beautiful_? He…the Prince couldn't believe it-he was _perfect_. As beautiful as the stars were high, as innocent and sweet as anything. His face was carved like nothing on earth. He was celestial-nothing this beautiful could have come from Earth. He must have fallen from the sky. It was almost as if a warm, golden light surrounded him in the Prince's eyes. Suddenly-everything made sense.

He had never seen anyone like this in his whole life. His whole throat had seized up-was the wind still blowing gently passed him? Was he in heaven-no, his heart was still pounding hard, so hard he felt it surely must explode. A rich, perfect happiness, a glowing inside. He'd never felt _anything_ like this before…this was _crazy_. But how could anything so insane…feel so wonderful?

The Prince had fallen instantly in love with him.

After a moment, he managed, somehow to find his voice. "Who is this-this _angel_?" he gasped out.

"His name was Kurt Hummel," muttered Mercedes, sniffing.

"Kurt…" The name was sweet in Blaine's mouth, like he had always been meant to say it. Gently, his fingers touched the cold glass of the lid of the coffin. "May I…?" he asked, carefully. Artie nodded his silent approval, not really caring as he wiped his steamed-up glasses.

Slowly, steadily, the Prince lifted the heavy glass lid. Kurt's hair waved gently as the breeze caressed it, his beautiful face perfectly still. Gently, oh so gently, the Prince stroked his porcelain cheek, heart shuddering as he touched him, a shock shivering through his whole body. His hand carefully slid down Kurt's swan-like neck, and down his slender arm, until he finally held the small, cool, soft hand in his larger, warm one. It fitted perfectly. He stroked it gently, still marvelling…

Suddenly, Prince Blaine felt an irrepressible need to kiss him. Slowly, savouring the moment, he leaned down over the coffin, to Kurt's motionless face-and kissed his red lips.

He could not even begin to describe what he felt as their lips met. It was as if every happy feeling in the world had been poured into him all at once, in a massive rush of emotion that nearly knocked him out…but it was the most _beautiful_…There were no words that could begin to cover it.

Pavarotti tweeted excitedly, hope beginning to finally rise in his chest! Was this…this was Kurt's prince! It had to be him! It was Kurt's true love, at last! Kurt always said-he_ knew _he would come! And…surely true love's kiss would awaken him….?

Finally, after what could have been days, years, or mere minutes of pure heaven…Prince Blaine had to break the kiss.

Everyone held their breath.

No one moved.

Aaaaannndddd….

Nothing happened.

Pavarotti flew miserably back to the ground, tears welling up in his eyes again. He cheeped miserably.

Prince Blaine looked sadly down at Kurt, still sleeping peacefully…and suddenly gasped.

"Hold on!" Leaning down again, the prince pressed his lips once more to Kurt's. He could taste cherry chapstick, a hint of apple, and-

"Poison!" he said aloud. "He was poisoned?"

"Uh huh," Mercedes confirmed miserably. "By Queen Rachel!"

The name alone caused dire threats and angry hisses amongst the Glee clubbers-but the Prince barely noticed.

"Why didn't you _say_?" he exclaimed, digging a hand into his back pocket. The Glee clubbers and animals watched anxiously as the prince pulled out a small, red box, about the size of a matchbox. Yanking it open-he retrieved a small, black stone. A bezoar. The Prince always carried one, after Wes accidentally drank some poisoned wine, and by incredible luck, the Prince had spotted one on the shelf. Just thinking about what would have happened otherwise still made him shudder…Kissing the bezoar for luck, he quickly opened Kurt's mouth and dropped it in.

You could have literally cut the tension in the forest with a knife. Nobody so much as breathed as they waited.

And waited.

Kurt did not wake…

Still waiting…

The Prince prayed and pleaded with every fibre in his body that it would work…

* * *

><p>Suddenly-Kurt's eyelashes fluttered.<p>

He felt weird…like he'd been asleep for a long time…there was a breeze on his face…was he outside? What _happened_?

Slowly, he opened his big, blue-green eyes-and looked up at the stranger, looking back at him. He looked into the beautiful, golden eyes…and his breath caught in his throat, what was left of it escaping from his lips in a gasp. His heart hammered so hard against his shirt that he was sure it couldn't go on much longer without breaking. And it was suddenly so full, so warm, so…complete. It was as if the final piece of him had somehow fitted into place as he looked back at this impossibly handsome stranger…

The stranger's eyes shone back at him. His gorgeous smile stretched as he realised Kurt was awake. There were sighs of relief and exclamations of joy all around., but Kurt barely registered. He only had eyes for the stranger…

Could this be…?

Suddenly, the stranger, still holding Kurt's hand, knelt to the ground on one knee, head bowed. Hardly daring to believe it, Kurt sat up, flowers scattering everywhere.

"Kurt Hummel…" the stranger said, his voice barely more than a breath. "I am Prince Blaine, of the kingdom of Bowtiesarecool…"

Kurt couldn't breathe. _He-could-not-breathe_.

Was this…at _last_…his white knight? His…_prince_? Finally come?

Kurt had fallen instantaneously, and truly, in love with him.

"Beautiful, sweet Kurt…" the Prince breathed. "Never have I seen such skin as white as snow, hair as dark as chocolate, lips as red as blood…Forgive me for not finding you sooner. But now I have…I realise that I was always meant to be here. You _move _me, Kurt," Looking up into his eyes-the Prince smiled adoringly up at him. "I've been looking for you my whole life. And now I have found you…I never wish to be parted from you. I…"

He paused, looking at Kurt like he was an angel. Both of their hearts had stopped.

"I love you,"

His pure, true voice was beautiful music to Kurt. He felt his eyes welling up in pure joy, heart full, head swimming. All his dreams were coming true.

"Oh Prince Blaine!" he gasped, hardly daring to believe this was real. "I love you too!"

For a moment, neither moved. They simply gazed at each other in wonder, adoration and devotion. Then-the Prince swept Kurt up in his strong arms in a bridal carry and they kissed passionately.

It was beautiful, wonderful, perfect. Like all the fairytales and every Disney movie.

"Don't hang around, do they?" Artie muttered to Rory, raising an eyebrow. But neither really minded. This was how most love scenes were acted out in the fairytale world: instant declaration of love, an embrace and…

When the kiss finally broke, they gazed into each other's eyes, laughing softly in happiness, and neither could stop smiling. "I can't believe it…" Kurt breathed. "I'm in love with a handsome prince!"

Prince Blaine kissed him again, stroking his soft, sweet-smelling hair. "Please, my love, come back with me to my castle in Bowtiesarecool, and live with me forever and ever,"

"Yes!" Kurt agreed as the words had barely left his mouth-then paused. "If you want me to…?"

Blaine smiled adoringly at him. "I want nothing more that to be with you. Always,"

The Glee clubbers and assorted animals cheered and clapped, delighted their dear friend was alive, and all his dreams had come true. Pavarotti was cheeping and tweeting manically, flying circles around the Prince and Kurt at break-neck speed. He was so happy, he thought he might explode.

"We'll be sad to see you go, Kurt," Rory called-then Kurt slid down from his prince and pulled all seven Glee clubbers into a hug, kissing each one (though Finn looked a little awkward).

"Thank you so much for everything!" he gushed. "You're all incredible!"

They "awwh"ed and hugged him back tightly, Mercedes practically suffocating him. "Don't know how we'll cope without you," Mike grinned. "The house will fall to ruin!"

"Look after him, your highness," Finn warned the prince. "Or you'll have me to answer to,"

"Don't worry, sir, you have my word," Blaine smiled, shaking Finn's large hand firmly.

"I'll visit you all!" Kurt was saying. "And you!" He turned to his forest friends-who all at once fell on him so hard he was knocked over, hugging and licking every inch of him. He laughed good-naturedly. "I'll miss you-especially you!" Leaning over to the little yellow bird perched on his knee, he kissed his soft feathers-but Pavarotti had other ideas. Flying to Kurt's shoulder-he perched firmly there. Obviously, he was coming too. Nipping Kurt's cheek affectionately, he cheeped happily, as Kurt beamed at him.

All too soon, it was time to go. The Glee clubbers waved goodbye as Kurt gave each one a last hug, before journeying back to their house. Kurt waved to them until they disappeared from sight, and the woodland creatures gradually departed, one by one, back to their homes.

"I'm going to miss them so much," Kurt sighed, feeling a little melancholy.

The prince put his arms around him comfortingly. "You're adorable," he said, kissing him sweetly on the lips.

Bittersweet, Kurt had one last look at the forest…before turning excitedly to his prince, who grinned back.

"Come on, let's go home," The Prince took his hand, and began to lead him through the forest, Pavarotti fluttering along behind them, back to where Luke Skywalker dutifully waited. But-as they went…

A terrible scream echoed through the forest, so loud and terrifying trees creaked and birds and squirrels scattered. A scream of anger, fury, hatred, frustration and madness…A scream swearing…_revenge_…

**It's not over yet…**

**Hope you enjoyed, and managed not to vomit! :P Please review! PVG24601xxx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everyone! Sorry it's taken a while, but I've been so busy! Sorry :'(**

**Hope you still enjoy! Look out for Potter references! :P**

**Please review! PVG24601xxx**

_**Chapter Nine: In which we encounter something nasty…**_

"_JABBERWOCKY!" _

Queen Rachel's screech echoed through the forest like a banshee-but not nearly as loud as the nightmarish, destructive, deafening, terrifying _roar _that made the ground violently shake and the trees to surrender and lean over, as if a hurricane had just torn through, almost ripping them from their roots. Then, almost immediately afterward-a petrifying sight arose on the horizon.

Flying through the air toward them at break-neck speed, growing larger by the second-was a horrifying, dragon-like creature. It would have dwarfed a tyrannosaurus rex-and made it look like a kitten. It was covered in purplish-grey scales that looked as tough as the thickest plates of armour, with spreading bat-like wings on it's back, scaly at the top, then the skin flowing so thin at the ends that you could see veins as big as pipes coursing through them. They were strong enough to carry this gigantic beast impossibly fast through the air, and therefore would have been weaponry enough-but the creature's attacking means did not stop there. The head of the creature was huge and hideously ugly, with enormous, alert red eyes and wide nostrils that seemed to emit dense black smoke, which twisted into what resembled small, gyrating cyclones at the end of it's long, metallic snout. The skull protruded six pairs of knife-like horns, set like a bull, but twice as ferocious. However- it's worst asset was it's jaws. Never had jaws like it been seen on this Earth-apart from possibly in _Little Shop Of Horrors_. The teeth were as long as your leg, and three times as sharp as the deadliest scythe, a horrible yellow in colour and still dripping with the blood of it's last meal…

But it looked plenty ready for more…

For a second-Kurt, Pavarotti and the Prince stood still, as if they had been turned to stone, watching the death-machine fly toward them. Then-

Ever quick-thinking, Prince Blaine drew his gleaming silver sword named Excalibur from his belt, with the same air he'd had when he'd pulled it out of that stone. Straightening his bow-tie, he finally tore his eyes away from the creature to look at Kurt. "Get yourself somewhere safe,"

Kurt looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm not going anywhere!" he said firmly.

"Kurt, you need to-" the Prince reasoned as the Jabberwock flew ever closer.

"I'm not leaving you!"

The prince rolled his eyes-God, he'd got a stubborn one… "Kurt, please, go! I can't loose you! I'll come for you when I defeat this bastard,"

Kurt's eyes widened with terror. "But what if-"

"Then Grilled Cheesus decided it was my day to go," the Prince said calmly. Then swore as the creature began to swoop down. "Kurt, _go_!" he yelled, as the Jabberwock nose-dived toward them, faster than a falling rock from a cliff. Reluctantly, Kurt turned and sprinted off into the forest.

Prince Blaine set his mind. He focused completely on the advancing monster, sword ready, more determined with every second. He was fearless-his heart filled with Kurt, giving him strength and courage to face the Jabberwock. Clutching his sword, he waited.

Then-when it came within a metre of him, and he could look right into it's nightmarish scarlet eyes-he lunged. The creature gave a yelp of pain as the Prince drove the sword into the thick skin of it's leg. He quickly pulled Excalibur out, preparing to strike again-but the monster was too fast. It's yellow fangs slashed at the Prince, missing him by mere inches as he craftily dodged.

But the Prince knew he'd never beat it like this. As he leaped to avoid the Jabberwock's long claws as, with a roar, it slashed at his legs, missing him by nothing at all-he knew he needed an advantage, or the would thing crush him in no time. Then-suddenly, he had a glorious idea.

Darting a hand into his pocket, he pulled out his phoenix feather wand, and quick as lightening pointed it in the direction of Bowtiesarecool. "_Accio Firebolt_!" he cried, ducking as the monster swung it's spiked tail around. After an agonising second-the broomstick came zooming toward him. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, he grabbed it-and kicked off the ground, wind whooshing through his hair as he gathered height.

The Jabberwock roared, confused, as it's prey began to rise into the air. Then, it growled, and slashed out. They battled hard, lunging and dodging, each an equal match for the other as they fought for victory. Man against beast-this was an epic war.

Suddenly-the Jabberwock shrieked in pain. The Prince looked up, bemused, as he was still lunging toward it. But the creature held it's claws to it's eyes, staggering. Prince Blaine gasped as he saw a little yellow speck darting around it's head. Pavarotti! The brave little bird tweeted a quick "_Mission accomplished_!" at the prince, who of course didn't understand him, but got the message, before flying away.

"_The bird may have blinded the Jabberwocky-but it can still kill you_!" Queen Rachel's magnified voice boomed through the forest like a death toll. But the Prince wasn't through yet. He flew higher in the sky, brandishing Excalibur bravely. Fighting a blind Jabbawock would be-

No. being blinded had only made it angry. It thrashed even more violently, waving it's deadly claws and horns. The Prince knew if one so much as hit him-it would impale him. They were fighting to the death...

* * *

><p>Kurt waited anxiously, terrified for his prince-and feeling pretty useless. Why was one person <em>always<em> left helplessly at the sidelines in these sort of fights? True, he didn't actually have a weapon, but he was sure he could have been _some_ use? Well, he just thanked his lucky stars he wasn't locked in a tower, or tied to a tree or something…

A thunderous roar from the Jabberwock, far away, sent a shiver down his spine. What if Prince Blaine did not prevail? What if he'd found the man of his dreams, his true love-then lost him on the same day?

Kurt wasn't sure he could take that.

Oh God, it was all he could do not to run back after him. Fear bubbled in his heart.

* * *

><p>Prince Blaine flew in circles around the grumpy, angry Jabberwock, trying to confuse it. He was doing well-by twisting it's head this way and that trying to find him, the beast was nicely dizzy. Preparing Excalibur, he lunged in for the final defeat-then the creature suddenly flung it's spiked tail directly at the prince.<p>

"Gah!" The sharp spikes sliced into his shoulder, leaving a deep gnash. He could feel blood spurting out of it, running down his arm. It was agonisingly painful-his shoulder felt as if it was on fire-but no time to worry about that now. He thought of Kurt. If he died, the creature might find him, and…the prince shuddered at the thought. Gritting his teeth, he had to stop this monster.

There was one last thing he could try.

One last, ancient battle strategy, passed down from father to son…

Sheer, dumb luck.

Closing his eyes and praying hard, he used his only chance. Raising Excalibur high above his head, he revved up the Firebolt, and flew at top speed, straight at the creature's black heart. He took at deep breath-and pushed the mighty sword with all his strength…

Suddenly-the Jabberwock let out a cry of…distress?

Opening his eyes a crack-the prince saw his trusty sword embedded deep in the thick scales of the creature's chest. Black blood was pulsing from the wound. It's dreadful eyes were rolling back into it's head…

The Jabberwock had been defeated!

With one last terrible roar, the creature vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving nothing but flattened grass and the faint smell of rotting flesh-and the creature was no more.

The prince, though rejoicing in his victory-felt a surge of sadness. The poor beast had only been doing Queen Rachel's bidding…

Slowly, Prince Blaine flew to the ground, and drove his sword into the ground where the grass had been squashed, as a mark of respect. Then, after a moment's silence, finally smiling again, he leapt back on his broomstick and flew into the forest in search of his beautiful Kurt.

"Kurt? Kurt?" he called, zooming in and out of trees in the woods, looking everywhere. Suddenly-he spotted something on the ground. Sprawled beneath a tree, fast asleep, was-a fairy. A bottle-blonde fairy in a pink dress, with butterfly wings-which had been torn and covered in mud. She snored loudly, one white shoe missing, with a half-empty bottle of gin spilling onto the grass beside her. After a second-she must have sensed someone looking at her, as she gave a small hiccough and opened her eyes, rubbing her head.

"Huh? Where's Gaston…oh!" She opened her eyes properly, and focused on the prince. "Well, hello there, handsome,"

The prince was too worried about finding Kurt to pay too much attention. "Look, ma'am, did you see a boy with hair as dark as chocolate, skin as white as snow and lips-"

"As red as freaking blood," she interrupted loudly, slightly slurred. "God, I'm sick of that…anyway, who's askin'?"

"Myself, ma'am," he told her politely.

"Well-as you said "_ma'am_"…Yep, Kurt went thataway," she said, pointing with one slim, orange arm. "Now," She smiled flirtily at the prince, winking. "Hows about you lie down here with old April, huh? I'll show you my _real _magic powers…oh!" April blinked as the prince shot off. She rolled her eyes long-suffering. "God, all the good ones are gay or…there was something else…oh crap, I can't remember..." Head crashing back onto the tree stump, she was out again in seconds.

* * *

><p>Finally, the Prince spotted a porcelain figure through the trees. Grinning, he sped toward him, heart skipping as he came closer. Kurt spun around-then he gasped, his face lighting up and beaming.<p>

"My Prince!"

"Kurt!" The prince smoothly landed beside him-then dropped the broom and threw his arms around him. He lifted him right off the ground, laughing in happiness.

"You did it! You did it!" Kurt kissed him joyfully. "I was so worried!"

"Oh, it was nothing," the prince shrugged modestly-but he held tight to Kurt. He knew he'd fight fifty Jabberwocks a day for Kurt.

"Oh-but you're hurt!" Kurt's eyes widened as he saw the slash on his shoulder. The prince had quite forgotten about it.

"Oh, it's nothing," he said again-though now he thought about it, it was really painful, the blood still flowing.

Raising an eyebrow, Kurt wasn't fooled. "Come on, my prince, let's get you cleaned up,"

Prince Blaine allowed him to lead him to a small stream nearby. "Hey," Kurt turned to him, beaming. "My hero,"

Embarrassingly, the prince felt his cheeks flush red. "Not really," he muttered, trying to hide a smile. Dithering like a loon in a forest-_so_ not dapper. But Kurt didn't seem to mind, giggling and taking his hand. When they reached the stream, Kurt sat him down on a rock and began to clean the, Blaine realised very deep, wound, using a handkerchief dipped in the clean, clear water of the stream. He dapped it gently, sat on the prince's lap. Prince Blaine wasn't sure if it was the cool water making it burn less-or the fact that Kurt kissed it softly after every few strokes. God, this made it _so _worth fighting the beast…

"I love you," the prince told him again. Looking up, Kurt's eyes shone, as if hardly believing he was real.

"I love you too,"

He leaned in to kiss him again-

"Oh. Isn't this _adorable_?"

Gasping, hearts stopping-the Prince and Kurt looked up…to see the beautiful, yet horrifyingly terrifying-Queen Rachel. Her long hair seemed to crackle with electricity as she stared at them with eyes of pure hatred…

And boy, she looked _mad_…

**To Be Contined…**

**Thank you! Please review! PVG24601xxx**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10-In which Prince Blaine says "never" a lot…**_

_**The Final Showdown…**_

There was no wind any more-but Queen Rachel's hair fanned out around her head like a great, dark halo, smaller strands whipping her face as she seethed in rage. Her fists were clenched, and the Prince had never seen so much anger, frustration and loathing on a single person's face. She looked-murderous. That was the only word. She looked ready to kill. Her long, black cloak, lined with purple inside, flapped out behind her, and one of her long socks had fallen down. Golden crown askew on her head, she yanked her star necklace straight and her face distorted with fury. The Prince wrapped his arms protectively around Kurt, who'd turned horribly pale in the face of the woman who wanted him dead more than anything in the world.

"The Prince slays the dragon, and now he departs with the victory and his dear _true love_," she sneered. "How _wonderful_,"

Prince Blaine felt the most intense, fiery anger brewing inside him, intense hatred of this deranged and treacherous monarch. "You will _never _touch him again," His voice was dangerous. "Over my dead body!"

A deadly spark flashed in Queen Rachel's eye. She smiled-like Dracula before a meal.

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Bow Tie Freak…"

Prince Blaine opened his mouth to retaliate…when something incredible happened…

"Hey! Barbra!"

Mouth falling open-the Prince looked around to see Kurt-looking anything but like the sweet, gentle boy who'd just been cleaning his wounds. He still looked terrified-but now his eyes were set. There was fire dancing in his usually calm, blue-green eyes, and his fists were shaking-but clenched.

"You threatening my man?"

The Queen stared at him in amazement, looking utterly flabbergasted and appalled. Prince Blaine was in total shock. _Did he just say that_…?

"Now look here, Hobbit," Kurt continued fiercely. "You can say all you want to me. But you mess with _my_ man, and I promise you-you will _not _last long! Oh-" He looked down, his eyebrows now raised. "Would those shoes belong to a granny, or a toddler?" he asked the queen, a sneer in his voice.

Prince Blaine looked up at Kurt in wonder.

"_God_, I love you," he gasped.

"_GAH_!" The Queen had turned purple in fury, her eyes actually and stereotypically turning red. With a strong flick of her hands-she produced thick ropes from her fingertips, which soared through the air, tying themselves around Kurt and pulling him sharply backwards. Before Kurt had time to even scream, they had bound him tightly to the trunk of a huge tree. He almost rolled his eyes. _God_, this _had _to happen…

"No!" Prince Blaine shouted, running to him-but suddenly, he stopped dead, as if he'd ran into a wall. He tried again-but he could not approach any closer. It was as if there was an invisible barrier, preventing him from going any farther. Queen Rachel cackled evilly as he tried to penetrate the force field she'd produced-and laughed even harder as she watched Kurt struggle in vain.

"Struggle all you want, my pretty, you'll get no where," she sneered. "You're trapped! Now-how about I make your little boyfriend watch me kill you?"

"You'll have to kill me first!" Prince Blaine gave up on the force field and turned to the Queen instead, hating and hating her.

"Sure," the Queen shrugged, as if he'd asked her to pass the milk.

"_No_!" Kurt shrieked. "_Please_," He turned to the Queen, eyes beseeching, begging. "Kill me, do whatever you want-but please don't hurt him!" he pleaded.

The Queen smiled wickedly. "How _touching_," she spat. "Not just a damsel in distress, are you, pretty boy? Okay. Don't let it be said that I'm not flexible. I let the Prince go-"

"_Never_!" yelled Prince Blaine, struggling against the force field again with almost inhuman effort.

"_Please_-"

"How could I live without you?" the Prince shouted, meaning every word. "I _can't_!"

Tears dripped down Kurt's cheeks in hopelessness. "Oh, Blaine…"

"So be it!"

Suddenly, the Queen reached behind her-and produced a long, purple lightsaber. It shone like nuclear fuel, as deadly as it was bright. She brandished it threateningly at the Prince. "_En garde_!"

Without any hesitation, Prince Blaine sprinted away from the force field, with a last, meaningful look at Kurt, and yanked his own lightsaber free. It was long, and navy blue. He lunged at the Queen-and the duel began.

Kurt watched helplessly (again) as his prince battled the crazy queen. The Prince was strong-but he was no match for the Queen's speed. She cackled as he struggled to keep up. Kurt's heart was suffocated with fear-even the battle with the Jabbawock had not been this brutal. He watched in dread as Queen Rachel twirled her lightsaber, the ground growing hot beneath the fighter's feet.

"Why not just give up, handsome?" she taunted him. "I'm going to crush you like I did Aural Intensity!"

"Never," the Prince growled, dodging her blow.

"Oh, but what about when I've killed you? You can't stop me making sure Kurtsikins dies a _slow, long, painful death_," She drew out each word, enjoying it.

"You will _never _hurt him again!"

The battle heated and heated, until it must have been almost unbearable.

The queen cackled insanely. "But soon you'll be as dead as Professor Quirrel-and then I will _destroy_ the pretty little countertenor-"

Kurt couldn't help but wince at her words.

"-and I will once again be the most talented in the land!"

"_Hang on_,"

Suddenly, the Prince lowered his weapon. The battle drew to an abrupt halt as he stared at the Queen. "_That_'s what all this is about?" he asked in disbelief.

Kurt's head jerked up in shock. He couldn't believe it. "_Me_?"

"_Yes_!" screamed the mad Queen. "I _must _be the greatest star-or what am I?"

Prince Blaine couldn't comprehend it. He stared at Queen Rachel, disgusted. "Oh my freaking Rowling…"

"The most talented in the land?" murmured Kurt. He couldn't help but smile to himself, despite the situation.

"Once the boy is dead-it will once again be _me_!"

"_Not my boyfriend, you bitch_!" Prince Blaine threw himself back into the battle, fighting to kill. The lightsabers flashed and crashed against each other, sparks flying. The Prince fought fearlessly, taking terrible risks, loosing himself completely in the heat of the duel. He would not leave this until he had won. But Queen Rachel cackled. She still had the edge…

Still tied to the tree, Kurt watched, praying. Suddenly-he heard a tapping on the tree from behind him. Turning around, with difficulty-he saw brave little Pavarotti pecking determinedly though the rope! Slowly, he cut through with his sharp little beak, strand by strand, until the ropes finally fell to the ground. Kurt was free!

"Thank you, Pavarotti!" he whispered. The bird tweeted in acknowledgement, then flew away, wishing him luck.

The Queen had not noticed her prisoner had been liberated. Summoning all his courage, and without making a sound, Kurt crept noiselessly up behind the Queen, not making a sound. As she continued to duel furiously, hurling insults at the Prince-Kurt took a deep breath, and-without really thinking about what he was doing-pushed her into the stream.

Shrieking in surprise as she fell, the Queen hit the water with a splash-but the water was only six inches deep. Kurt instantly felt stupid-she looked nothing but comical sat in the water with a shocked expression. As she recovered, she looked at Kurt scathingly. "Pathetic," she sneered, cackling. "_Pathetic_. What did you-

!"

All of a sudden-she shrieked in agony.

The water around her had started to steam, as if it was _boiling, _like a kettle. Kurt and the Prince stared.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU LITTLE BRAT?" she screamed at Kurt, looking livid, confused and terrified all at the same time.

"I'M MELTING! _I'M MELTING_!"

Kurt gasped. Indeed she was, sinking away into the water, as if she were dissolving. It was incredible and horrible all at once as she screamed and thrashed, seeping away with the current.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? I'M _MELTING_!"

With one last horrific, inhuman, bloodcurdling screech-she was gone. The evil queen was no more.

Kurt breathed out heavily, more tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to believe what had just happened. He-Kurt Elizabeth Hummel-had just triumphed over Queen Rachel.

"Oh my Rowling…" Prince Blaine did not move for a few long seconds as he took it in. Then-

"You did it!"

Lifting Kurt up, he spun him around and around. "Oh, Kurt, you did it!" Laughing in disbelief and pure happiness, he kissed him, holding him tightly.

"_We_ did it," smiled Kurt, kissing him back. "With a little help from Pavarotti!"

The little yellow bird returned, chest puffed up with pride as he perched on Kurt's shoulder, nipping his cheeks affectionately.

"You're adorable," the Prince told Kurt lovingly. Kurt beamed back, as they finally headed back on their way. The Prince carried the brightest star in the land back to the loyally waiting Luke Skywalker, and they journeyed back toward Bowtiesarecool, Pavarotti cheeping excitedly behind them. Before they knew it-they were riding off into the sunset, in true Disney style

But the author didn't groan this time, as she was too busy fangirling over Klaine and how much she loves them always :D

* * *

><p>And so, Prince Blaine married Kurt the very next day, in a huge, lavish ceremony that even his father the king begrudgingly attended. Kurt ensured Mercedes caught the bouquet-which she then offered to Sam…April begun to go to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, and slowly but surely began to conquer her out-of-hand drinking problem. Sue took up charity work, re-homing lost kittens and puppies and reading to the blind. Will was eventually taken down from the wall of Queen Rachel's room and was given as a gift to the seven Glee clubbers. Under his coaching, they finally landed their own TV show, their life-long dream. They couldn't be happier. And as for Pavarotti-he was knighted as Sir Pavarotti, and flew freely around the castle grounds singing out joyfully for ever…until his sudden and unfortunate death, after which he was given a state funeral. But apart from that…<p>

*Everyone together now!* They all lived happily ever after…

**THE END**

**Thank you so much to everyone for reading! I can' tell you how much it means to me :D I really hope you enjoyed, and may you all have happy endings too :D **

**Thank you! Best wishes! :D PVG24601xxx**


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